Leaving the royal twins dilly-dallying in the living room, Thalia hurried to her bedroom to grab the brooch.
There it was on her desk — a beautiful pink diamond, carefully set into a rectangular golden frame.
The inside of the frame was engraved with delicate lines, almost too small to read unless one looked closely.
It was a stupid brooch, and it was a stupid tradition. But… she wanted to make it.
Although since this was her first time making one, it had taken her far longer than she would ever admit.
She had ruined the first. Then the second. The third had looked like something a five-year-old kid would make in an arts-and-crafts class.
The fourth had been… acceptable, sure. But this one was perfect. Oh, it was so perfect. She almost didn't want to give it away.
Picking it up and storing it in her slacks' pocket, she was about to turn and leave.
—Ding
